


what we owe to each other

by koroshiyas (lucitae)



Category: Day6 (Band), GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-20 21:05:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16563116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/pseuds/koroshiyas
Summary: Our bonds with others inspire us to become better people.Jinyoung puts his best foot forward — for Wonpil.





	what we owe to each other

**Author's Note:**

  * For [landfill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/landfill/gifts).



> dedicated to my better half. this is how i show you the ways in which i love you. enjoy.
> 
> wildly inaccurate characterizations + random POV switches + unbeta'd since it was essentially written on a whim over the course of three days. pls don't venture further.

_Why choose to be good every day if there is no guaranteed reward we can count on, now or in the afterlife? I argue that we choose to be good because of our bonds with other people and our innate desire to treat them with dignity._

The laptop whirs, fanning heat. Wonpil’s lap warms, matching the heat in his cheeks.

_Simply put, we are not in this alone._

Jinyoung mouths along with the professor in the screen, unbudging from where he rests his head on Wonpil’s shoulder. A groan surfaces not long after.

“Why can’t moral philosophy be as interesting as The Good Place makes it out to be?” Jinyoung whines as he shifts, reaching over Wonpil to grab a fistful of popcorn. “Why am I taking this class in the first place?”

“Because you love me,” Wonpil answers with his heart on his sleeve.

Jinyoung deadpans.

So Wonpil swallows it down and says instead: “Because you’re a classic STEM major who would have never taken a humanities course if it wasn’t a graduation requirement but you also didn’t want to take a class alone.”

Jinyoung hums. “Sounds about right.” He pops a kernel into his mouth. “So why are _you_  taking it? How does moral philosophy help you teach kids?”

There’s an indignant huff that comes from Wonpil, one that threatens the growth of a smile on Jinyoung’s lips but he suppresses it.

“It’s important,” Wonpil protests so vehemently that Jinyoung rises from his spot in order to catch Wonpil’s expression. “Perfect for explaining why you shouldn’t take toys from other children. It’s basic deontology. For this world to function there are certain principles to follow. You shouldn’t steal, lie, or kill. If you steal it enables another kid to act in the same way... or something like that.” The last part is muttered under his breath.

A smile dances on Jinyoung’s lips. It’s moments like this that reminded him why he chose to take the course in the first place.

“Then say the child doesn’t steal and is a good kid who shares but his toys get stolen from him anyway. What would you tell him then?” Jinyoung asks. The ends of his lips curl into a more mischevious expression.

“I—” Wonpil is rendered speechless, mouth agape as he tries to come up with an answer. He gives it some thought, interspersed with incoherent stutters, before it dawns on him. Eyebrows knit as he points at Jinyoung.

“You...” voice low and accusatory. “You’re torturing me aren’t you?”

Jinyoung laughs from the bottom of his heart. Clutching his chest and doubling over for extra measure because only Wonpil would be so absorbed into a tv show to use its terminology.

“Or trying to.” Wonpil’s pitch starts to rise as he chucks handfuls of popcorn in Jinyoung’s direction. It just makes him laugh louder as he attempts to dodge and swat away the snacks.

“Only you,” Jinyoung says between breaths, both hands raised as a sign of surrender, “would use the word _torture_  when I’m merely challenging you intellectually.” 

The pink that tinges Wonpil’s cheeks is worth the flecks of popcorn that settles over his clothes in an unruly manner. There’s a slap to the shoulder that Jinyoung deserves — not that he would ever admit it out loud as they settle back into a comfortable position to finish the rest of the finale.

Jinyoung’s head is about to find Wonpil’s shoulder naturally when the text ring tone garners his attention. A low whine slips from Wonpil’s lips.

“You’re missing the end,” he says, trying to draw Jinyoung back.

“Yeah but this is also our third time watching Chidi and Eleanor meeting the way normal people do, _together_ ,” he adds for extra measure. He chuckles at the frown marring Wonpil’s face, delighting in the way it slips into a full on sulk. Jinyoung gives his roommate a pat in comfort before extricating himself.

“Who is it?” Wonpil asks, raising his volume so that Jinyoung can hear him from the room where he’s changing. “Mark? Jaebum? Or...”

Jinyoung exits the room before Wonpil has a chance to finish. Wonpil’s expression reads that he has dressed up for this occasion. Jinyoung takes a second glance at his outfit. It’s his usual jeans paired with a collared shirt attire but anything is dressing up if one is only used to seeing lounge wear.

“Jackson.” Jinyoung finishes the sentence for him. “He owes me a meal remember?”

Jinyiung grabs his keys as Wonpil follows his movements from the corner of his eye.

“Don’t miss me too much.” Is all Jinyoung says before the door slams shut.

“Like I would,” Wonpil mutters, mostly to himself as he stares blankly at the screen before him. The statement lacks any power of persuasion as the couch suddenly seems too big. 

 

* * *

 

“Have you thought about it?” Jackson asks over the sizzling of meat. He’s nibbling on the front of his chopsticks again as he waits for Jinyoung to flip the meat to perfection.

“Hmm?” Comes the only reply as Jinyoung is far too distracted to pay attention. It’s only out of his well bred manners and the fact that Jackson is paying for this meal that Jinyoung presents Jackson with the first slice of cooked Korean beef.

“Who you are going to live with next year? The end of the year is coming up you know,” Jackson says between mouthfuls.

The best merit of keeping Jackson as a friend is how delicious he makes food seem, Jinyoung thinks as he takes a bite and washes it down with soju.

“Wonpil,” Jinyoung says simply as if stating a fact.

Jackson makes a face. “Live it up a little. Other than your first year you’ve been rooming with Wonpil. Aren’t you tired of him yet?”

The last part is in jest because Jinyoung knows how fond Jackson is of their friend.

“Nope,” Jinyoung retorts, letting his lips pop on the p before stuffing two more slices into himself.

“Come on, Jinyoung-ah,” Jackson whines. “I found this awesome flat. We could split it. Bambam and Yugyeom are already on board.”

Jinyoung pauses to feign contemplation.

“I think I'll pass,” he says with a beautific smile.

Jackson groans.

“Fine,” he says as his lips curl to form a cheeky smile. “I wonder if Wonpil-ie is tired of you yet. Maybe he'll be willing to be our fourth flatemate.”

Jinyoung shoots Jackson a glare and makes a point by snatching the last piece of meat for himself. “Don’t you _dare_ ,” he hisses.

Jackson just laughs in his face. 

 

* * *

 

It’s ridiculous how humans only act when they are confronted with the notion of loss. Or worse, do nothing and wallow in regret, only understanding how important something was to them when they no longer have it.

This applies to Jinyoung as well.

 

* * *

 

“So how was band practice?” Jinyoung asks, toweling dry his hair before he joins Wonpil on the couch.

“The usual,” Wonpil says without looking up from his laptop, “Jae roasts me. I let him.” A small hand wave. “Our Tom and Jerry routine cycles through for the millionth time.”

Jinyoung smiles at that. “You mean Jae roasts you, you try to return the favor, but your quips aren’t quite on par,” he teases. It elicits a groan from Wonpil.

“Why do I even live with you again?”

“Because you love me.”

Wonpil falls silent.

Jinyoung knows it is because it has hit a nerve, perhaps even somewhere a bit too close to home. He’s considering taking it back when Wonpil forces out a dry “ha. Ha. Hilarious.”

The phrase tugs at Jinyoung’s heart. Makes it lurch in an uncomfortable manner.

Wonpil squints as he peers over the edge of his laptop in Jinyoung’s direction. “Wait. How did you know it was band practice today?”

“Because I _listen_ , Wonpil-yah,” Jinyoung replies.

A small smile forms on Wonpil’s face. The type that quells that odd spell. The type that almost sets Jinyoung’s heart at ease, almost.

“How was your date with Jackson?”

Jinyoung grimaces. “Please don’t call it a date,” he says quickly before answering Wonpil’s question. “But he wanted to know if I was interested in living with him next year.”

“And?”

Jinyoung was about to say _I told him no_ when he thinks about all the season 2 finale and Chidi’s mini lecture series. It makes him say “about that... can I talk to you?” instead.

Wonpil seems to notice the shift in tone. He closes his laptop and sets it on the tea table in front of them before turning towards Jinyoung. There’s that habit of his where he pulls a leg up. It’s for comfort but also to gather concentration. And if it wasn’t for nerves maybe Jinyoung would have smiled at the little quirk.

“You know how when you’re a kid and it’s your birthday and people tell you not to say your wish aloud when you blow the candles because it might not come true?” Jinyoung starts. He realizes his voice isn’t the most stable but continues anyway before he loses all courage. “I’ve been operating with that principle in mind for as long as I can remember,” Jinyoung chuckles. “I even generalized it to some extent. Made rules for myself,” he says as he ticks off each rule with a finger, “you can’t reveal it to anyone else,  _ever_. This pertains to shrines, prayers — and even with the future you want.”

Jinyoung smiles, wry as he meets Wonpil’s gaze. He looks confused but Wonpil was never one to interrupt.

“But in the past few years, I’ve realized that isn’t the case. Just because you don’t talk about the future you dream of doesn’t necessarily mean it will come true.” He laughs, mostly at himself. It’s the most obvious thing in the world but some ideas are hard to let go of when they are so deeply rooted. “And if that is the case, isn’t it better to talk about it then? Instead of being left with regrets and wondering if things would be different if you did?”

“When Jackson asked if I would live with him next year, I immediately told him that we were rooming together again. I just assumed because you are a constant in my life,” Jinyoung confesses. “Sometimes I wonder if I take you for granted.” There’s a tone of apology. “I don’t. But if it feels that way I’m truly sorry. You deserve to be treated better.”

“The thing is:” Jinyoung says, while wondering if he’ll come to regret this. If Wonpil will find it creepy or hard to stomach or too burdened by all this. But he’s already come so far, so he continues: “when I think about the future — and I don’t mean next year, I mean five or ten years from now — you’re there too. We’re still living together.” His lips can’t help but curl into the semblance of a smile. “I show you a recipe that seems interesting and the next day we end up gathering supplies in an attempt to recreate it while wrestling for elbow space.”

“Or days when I come home late and you’re already preparing dinner. You feed me a taste and ask for my opinion like it’s second nature.” He’s half tempted to search Wonpil’s face for reactions but embarrassment would probably stop him dead in his tracks. “And in a way it is. Just like the way my arms slide around your waist and pull you close so that your scent soothes my soul. Just like the way my chin rests on your shoulder. Just like the way I press my lips to your cheeks as an answer to what I think about your dish.” This part he does. Smirking as he teases: “delicious as always but an extra pinch of salt never harmed anyone.”

“Or us browsing bookstores and selecting books. Sometimes we choose to share a copy. Other days we head to the library so that we can read the same book and discuss because it’s more fun that way.”

“Or moments similar to the present where we watch reruns of our favorite shows together. Catch each other up with our childhood classics and explore new dramas together.”

“There are times I imagine us exploring new cities and traveling to distant countries. Sometimes by land. Sometimes by sea.” Wonpil’s face looks unreadable. Perhaps processing so Jinyoung presses on like it’s his last chance. Maybe it is. “I imagine breakfast banter and trying to herd our kids into the car before driving them to school. Pouring over homework and trying to recall earlier education. Which is harder for me than for you. I imagine coming home late and upon the sullen expression you just silently sit me down, pour me a cup of tea, and accompany me until I want to talk. That part you already do but I want to be able to kiss you when we think no one is watching — but of course someone is. I want to hold your hand and not have to come up with an excuse for it. I want to be able to tell you I love you and mean it.”

“What? I—” Wonpil stutters. “Why?”

Jinyoung interprets the last bit as _why now of all times?_  and shrugs.

“Jackson joked that maybe you were tired of me and he should invite you to live with him instead. And watching The Good Place earlier made me think,” he gestures at the closed laptop.

“ _I argue_ _that we choose to be_ _good because of our bonds with other people and our_ _innate desire to treat them_ _with dignity_ ,” he recites with his eyes closed before opening them and holding Wonpil’s gaze. “I don’t know what school of thought this falls under or if it’s even ethical to tell you all this. I feel like you deserve to know. I owe it to you to be more honest, to be worthy of holding onto this pair of hands and never let go.” Jinyoung reaches over, letting his fingers slide over Wonpil’s hand before intertwining them with a soft smile. “Insecurities and fears will always be a part of life. I owe it to you to be a better person.” Jinyoung takes shaky breath before admitting: “I’m in love with you. Have been for a while now.” He knows the look on his face is one of vulnerability but he doesn’t mind, not in front of Wonpil. “I’m sorry it took me this long to say it.”

Wonpil’s reply comes as a knock against Jinyoung’s forehead. “You’re so unfair,” his tone almost slips into a whine, “I’ve been wanting to tell you how I felt for the longest time.”

Jinyoung chuckles. It only takes a line from Wonpil to make all that unease dissipate. “I had an inkling that you returned my feelings. Told myself not to read into it too much in case it led to disappointment and embarrassment.”

“Well, now you know,” Wonpil says simply, giving Jinyoung’s hand a small squeeze. “I love you.”

“Thank you for loving me in return,” Jinyoung whispers before pulling back. He refuses to unlock Wonpil’s hand from his grasp.

“So what now?” Wonpil says with the brightest smile on his face. “What changes between us?”

“Abaolutely nothing,” Jinyoung retorts and waits for Wonpil’s face to fall before adding: “except being able to tell you I love you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I hope it won’t lose its meaning after saying it that many times.”

Wonpil growls. “Whoever said saying I love you often will lose its meaning has shirt for brains.” The statement causes Jinyoung to laugh. “It only loses its meaning when you no longer mean it.”

A sigh slips from Jinyoung’s lips.

“What?”

Jinyoung raises their interlocked hands and allows his lips to brush against Wonpil’s knuckles. “Nothing. Just another one of those moments that reinforce my love for you.”

A smile dances on his lips as he watches Wonpil turn red. Another chuckle makes its way out of Jinyoung, delighting in the way cheeks are dusted in a shade of pink that accentuates Wonpil’s jaw. Jinyoung doesn’t think twice when he gives Wonpil a swift peck on his cheek.

“I am now in your care,” Jinyoung says, purposefully sultry, “please look after me well.”

He has to suppress another laugh when he feels the heat radiate off Wonpil’s skin when he mutters with an added pout: “that’s my line.”

 

* * *

 

 

( **Wonpil** ; 8:48PM ) JINYOUNG AND I ARE DATING!

( **Wonpil** ; 8:48PM ) [ image attached ]

( **Wonpil** ; 9:13PM ) why hasn’t anyone said anything...

( **Wonpil** ; 9:14PM ) I KNOW EVERYONE SAW IT

 

( **Jae** ; 9:14PM ) what are we supposed to say?

( **Jae** ; 9:15PM ) congrats...?

 

( **Wonpil** ; 9:16PM ) ...yes _?_

( **Wonpil** ; 9:16PM ) aren’t you guys my friends

 

( **Brian** ; 9:17PM ) tbh i thought you guys were already dating

 

( **Wonpil** ; 9:17PM ) SINCE WHEN???

 

( **Brian** ; 9:18PM ) for at least a year

( **Brian** ; 9:18PM ) minimum

( **Dowoon** ; 9:19PM ) same

( **Sungjin** ; 9:20PM ) in our defense you talk about him a lot

( **Sungjin** ; 9:20PM ) but congrats

( **Brian** ; 9:20PM ) congrats

( **Dowoon** ; 9:21PM ) congrats

 

Wonpil huffs indignantly as he shoves his phone in Jinyoung’s face. “Can you believe them?” gesturing wildly at the group chat. “I need better friends.”

“I can,” Jinyoung says with a stoic nod. “In their defense, you were never of the subtle sort. I assumed you were going to make a move.”

“Hey!” Wonpil protests. “I’m not the one who confessed!”

A smile breaks out. “And I stand by it” is all Jinyoung says as he takes his best Wonpil distraction tactic out of the book. Fingers run through the bit of hair at the nape of Wonpil’s neck as he pulls him close to press his lips against Wonpil’s.

The tongue that darts out is entirely accidental.

The phone remains a forgotten artifact until next morning.

**Author's Note:**

> i love the good place and it had been bugging me for a while now so i had to... it probably ended up being a waste of a good title though welp.


End file.
